Nightwatch of the Lone Savior
by Blue Jeans
Summary: For a smart man, Zelos finds that he can sure get himself into a lot of trouble, especially when it comes to Sheena. And sadly, it's not just because of his mouth either. Featuring all characters. [Continuation of the Game]
1. Part I Triet

**WARNING: ** _I like Zelos Wilder. A lot. The more I write about him, the more I like him. Not so much as to be unrealistic, but just enough to make him the main character of this story. I think Zelos and Sheena are made for each other, their pairing would be hilarious (he's too charming for his own good and she's too up-tight to let him get away with it)! There might be spoilers in this story as I am writing a continuation. So if you haven't finished playing the game, maybe you shouldn't read it. But it's up to you, so enjoy._

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You were everything I had thought you were: Arrogant, egotistical, loud, a liar and a play-boy. You lived your life as if you hadn't a care in the world, as if you weren't who you were born to be. When I had first heard of the story of the Chosen, when I had first pictured the boy that my grandfather told me about, I had thought of him as someone who was quiet and dignified, handsome and kind, someone who I could rely on and who I could see sacrificing his life for my world. Someone... like Colette had been, someone who wasn't you.

I met you when I was fifteen and naive. At the time I had heard of the carefree Chosen, and wondered, indignantly at how the women in the city had laughed in delight when they spoke of you. How could they treat you like that? How could they not respect you as I did? It made no sense at the time why they were so familiar with the boy I had thought you were, the man you were quickly becoming. I didn't realize it then how easily you would have laughed at my image of you, but then, I wouldn't have heard the mocking undertones that was present in every action you took when faced with the expectations of others on how or who you should've been even if I had met you. Zelos Wilder, how strange that you tried so hard to live up to your name and yet tried so much harder to not live up to your title...

You were charming, that was the first impression I had of you. I would never admit that later, but I had never seen anyone so beautiful. At first, I had thought you a girl by the way your hair had fallen perfectly down your shoulders, with that wicked curl at the fringes, shining in the sun like fire and inviting a woman's fingers to run through it to test out its promised silkiness. You had turned then, your laughing profile was the first impression I had of your face. The delicate arch of eyebrows, the sinfully long eyelashes that fluttered flirtatiously with the girl to your left; the straight, but aristocratic line of your nose; the curve of your generous mouth as you flashed the white of your teeth in a disarming fashion at the gathering crowd of admirers, were all the weapons you needed to be used against those around you.

I was enchanted by the princely manner you had about you. The sweeping bow you gave to the old dame that let her hand linger longer on your arm than was appropriate. The melodious way you spoke your words, pronouncing each with your voice low in your chest so that it rumbled just so, something you did when you were out on the hunt for female flesh. I have yet to meet a human or half-elf girl who had been able to resist it without a blush to stain her cheeks (though the elves, eventually, did prove to be immune to your charms).

But then, as I followed you through the rich streets of Meltokio, abandoning my earlier wonder at the Imperial City, I began to see that you treated every woman in that manner. I was naive and a child, but I was not a fool. I saw how the older women looked to you with half-masked desire in their eyes (though I would not recognize that for another year or two for what it implied), how the younger ones clung to your arms as they batted their lashes at you - though later you would laughingly say that theirs were not half as impressive as your own. I noted how the little girls begged you to play with them and how the reserved men would look on, look on and say nothing. Almost as if they were honored that you would waste your time upon their wives, sisters, daughters and girlfriends - though there were a few that had watched you in envy. And yet, at the time, the foolish girl that I had been had wished you would bestow that attention on me. I wasn't the only one as I watched women and girls alike, vying for your attention while snubbing each other as they waited in line to be the next one you spoke to.

The ones who had their hands kissed by you would later wave it about as if it were a priceless item. The ones who clung to your arm would rub their own with a half-dreamy smile later. The ones who you winked at or felt the faint touch of your sly fingers slide alongside their cheeks would whisper to their friends later, comparing stories and notes and fighting over who you really were paying attention to and who you really thought was beautiful (since you told them all that they were, but in a thousand different ways). You were, physically, everything I could have hoped for in the Chosen, but quickly I began to note that there wasn't a thing in you that was like the boy, the man, I would have imagined the Chosen to be.

Maybe the whole world was fooled by your charm, but I was not. I could not see, not even a little bit, of how I could depend my life on you. I could not see how you were going to save the world, my world. I could not see, for the longest time, the coldness of your gaze as you looked over humanity.

* * *

_"Most people were born to live, even though some are just born to die."  
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_- **Zelos, on being the Chosen**_

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**Night Watch of the Lone Savior**

_by Blue Jeans_

Destiny. When he used it, women would swoon. He would say, "We were destined to meet," or "You and I were destined for each other," or "This is our destiny, yours to love me and mine to do the loving." Sometimes, the bitterness would singe his mouth so much that the words would come out lewder than he intended, but most of the times the women didn't mind what came out of his mouth so long as it was his mouth that it was coming out of.

He had his first kiss at eleven, taken aside by a sixteen year old girl who had been too flustered to do more than peck him on the lips. It had, apparently taken all the courage she had just to take him aside, her brazenness leaving her in the last moments of accomplishing her goal. At the time he was still innocent. Innocent, in the sense that he still believed in giving his life up for his world, innocent in that he was still on good terms with his baby sister - who he protected fiercely - and innocent in the fact that the kiss had mattered to him. Years later he wouldn't even have recalled what the girl had looked like or how the kiss had felt, he would only remember that he had been foolish and a child to not have asked for more, because he knew she would have given it to him had he only reached out to take it.

All throughout his life the people had been like that to him. For quite a few foolish years, when his parents were still living in the city and his mother had been alive, he had thought the way Colette, the Chosen from the other world, had thought: That his duty was to protect Tethe'alla and he really wouldn't mind dying for that cause. He was a child then, he had long accepted that but it would be a long time before he could forgive himself of his foolishness.

He knew the day things had changed. There had been a gathering for a picnic one sunny afternoon, after the grief of his mother's passing, when his sister had been playing a little ways down the hill. A group of women were laughing and admiring him from the blankets the servants had laid out, and he had been enjoying the fresh air. His seventeenth birthday was coming up and the palace had been in an uproar - the cook finally kicked him out just so the female population would be reduced in the vicinity of the castle. The princess had followed him, against her father's instructions, and had given him an early birthday present. "Here," she said with a smile, "I always feel like I should be thanking you for being who you are. It's been a tough year for you too, so I hope you can really be happy again, like you used to be."

Zelos didn't quite know what to say and she had been too shy to stick around to see his reaction, though he knew she wanted to linger. On the hill-side, before anyone could come to interrupt him, he opened the present and paused. Inside was a bound book, the princess had written a note telling him what it was for. "It's from the archives. Your father must have forgotten to take it out before... Well, it's for you. It's personal so I didn't look through it." The aged leather was not yet cracked. He opened the first page and saw what it was right away.

It wasn't a diary per se. His mother had collected all the love-letters amassed during their parents' courtship along with small, miniature pictures she had painted of him and his sister when everyone was there for him to call it a family. There were stories and memories in each page, each filled with the gentle touch of love he had always associated with his mother. On one page there were tear stains, and at first he didn't understand why she had been crying. Perhaps it was tears of happiness, because Mother was writing about how the Pope had visited them that day to tell them that their son was the Chosen, as the prophecies had indicated. Later, much later, he would realize that she had probably been crying for him and the boy he had lost that day on the hill - the boy who believed that a life was worth sacrificing for the world, but whose dead mother did not.

He didn't know quite what had triggered his reaction the way it did, but in that moment as he read the love shared between his parents and the feelings they had for their children, Zelos realized that no one loved him that way anymore. Since fifteen, his sister had become more distant from him than ever before. He knew that she was resentful of the attention he had garnered from everyone. He knew she didn't understand what it meant to be the Chosen, as not many did. It still saddened him that she no longer favored him as she had done when they had been children and he had been her world. He knew, however, that no matter how many women waited for him on that blanket, or how many in the city wanted him in their beds, they would never say, "I'll die for you, Zelos. I'll risk my life so that you may live." They would never cry for him as his mother had done the day she discovered that her son was the Chosen. They would never have pushed him away to avoid harm from someone else's magick at the risk of their own, pretty necks.

Instead, being a sacrifice was what he was made for. This was what he was born to do: To die for others. "Do I have no other value?" he asked himself softly as he clutched the book tightly. The sword on his hip dug into him, mocking him with its uselessness. Could he fight off his destiny with it? For all those hours spent in the training grounds, did it matter at all? He didn't have the answers for once. He was the Chosen, but he realized that he didn't really know anything anymore. More than that, he had never really understood what it meant to be the one to hold the title he had held all this time.

When Zelos finally felt composed enough to face his audience, he straightened and dusted the grass off of his pants. He called out to his sister to come up the hill to eat, ignoring the glare she sent him (slightly glad she was not the one to be sacrificed, slightly resentful that he was the one who had to die.) He turned, knowing what he would see in the admiring glances and sighs that the women sent his way since all they saw was the Chosen. He was, after all, the man who would die for them. They did not see Zelos, the boy who didn't want any part with death or dying, the selfish boy who didn't want this destiny and hadn't been asked if he had wanted it to be a part of his life.

_"I always feel like I should be thanking you for being who you are,"_ the princess's words came back to mock him. He smiled pleasantly at his audience, hiding the irritation that had sprung up in his heart. The picnic and the blue skies were beginning to thoroughly annoy him, as if it was a testament to the insignificance of his life. It was like nothing had changed, even though everything had.

He was, finally, facing his destiny. He just never realized that it was a wolf that desired to devour him, and not a grandmother out to embrace him. It was sad, really, Zelos acknowledged. He was standing at the jaws of fate and there was nothing he could do about it.

* * *

Zelos blew at an errant strand of red-hair, sighing at the heat that thrummed in the air. He wish he had a better reason to be running around the desert this time around. Of all the things that had to be included with Sylvarant when the two worlds merged, he wished the desert hadn't been a part of the package. Even though his days as the Chosen were over, the king had more than enough errands for Zelos to run. Now, instead of having the title of the Chosen, they gave him another one to take its place: Ambassador of Tethe'alla. "You have the experience," the king had said. "And you're the one who wanted there to be equality amongst all races. Go out and prove to me that you really believe in this vision," because, obviously, his majesty did not. 

Zelos snorted derisively at this. It wasn't just what he had wanted, it was what Lloyd had wanted. It was what everyone in their group that had assembled to save these two, struggling worlds had wanted. He had to convince the King to at least lift the ban on half-elves in many of the higher facilities of government, he had to at least make it so that it is possible that they be able to go into public places without being harassed, or attend public schools so that the human children will not resent them as much due to the exposure. "Man," Zelos sighed as he hefted the bag that was weighing down his shoulders. "Why did Lloyd take the girl and the easier, more fun job?" he complained as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

"Sir," the entourage that was falling behind him caught up at last and the servant boy who had yelled out his name was panting in exhaustion. "The camels are exhausted sir, and the group is wondering if you... if Triet was near."

Great, his companions now doubted his sense of direction instead of just doubting the sanity of his vision and the purpose of this journey, Zelos thought sourly. Who did they think he was? Lloyd Irving? At least he knew which direction North was. Sometimes, Zelos wondered, if Colette was all Lloyd needed to get the boy from point A to point B. "Tell them that I know where I am going and that we would get there faster if they could keep up." Zelos answered through gritted teeth, hating the fact that he has to talk. He didn't need an excuse to open his mouth to let any more sand into that particular body part. He especially hated how it gritted against his teeth and made him even thirstier.

"Y-yes sir," the servant boy nodded, but was startled when Zelos set a hand on his shoulder.

"Boy," Zelos acknowledge, for the first time noting the slightly angular features of the child that marked him as a half-elf. "I'm not riding my camel, so if you get too tired, you and one of your friends can use mine." The surprised look on the child's face annoyed Zelos greatly. Really, did everyone treat the half-elves so terribly? If so, he could understand why Genis had despised his race, even though Lloyd was human and Genis's best-friend. Zelos, at least, understood that quite well. He wasn't really a great fan of the human race himself, especially when he had been the Chosen. Unlike Colette, he didn't feel one iota of guilt for not liking the fact that he was supposed to die for all of mankind.

Go figure, maybe Sheena was right. Maybe he really was a bastard all along. Thinking on the dark-haired ninja brought a bitter smile on his lips. She was the only one who could really make him feel this way. Her and her high ideals made him hit on her more than any of the other women, just to prove to her that this was the scum that was going to save her cute, tight butt when the end of the world came. He was a coward, a cheat, a liar, and a traitor, but he was the Chosen. Even Sheena Fujibayashi couldn't deny that fact no matter how much she looked down on him. Really, it was fun to see her reaction when he brought her down to the human level everyone else was on.

She was afraid of the fact that she was human, that she couldn't always save the world, that the cost to save others, in the end, was sometimes a life that one - selfish or not - was more than unwilling to part with. He wanted to show her that truth. He wanted her to see the human in him, because of all his companions she was the only one from his world that cared about whom he was and the role he played. Regal and Presea had their own, tainted reasons for going on this journey. They had no illusions about Zelos. They didn't think him any better or worse than any other person one might encounter on the streets. But Sheena, she had looked down her ninja nose at him - despite the fact that he was taller than her - and judged him based on the existence of a title he bore. She cared about the person he was, or the person he was supposed to be, and that had annoyed him. Zelos had grinned at that fact for most of the journey as it was a delight to shatter the illusions she had of him.

For someone who he had never met, she sure knew a lot about him and his habits. Maybe it bothered him that she saw him as the Chosen more than anyone else did. Maybe, but it had been a year since they had last met up, and they had parted as companions should, even if they were not exactly friends. In the distance, he saw the outline of a city looming in the sand. "Is that it, sir?" the little elven boy asked in awe. "Is that Triet?" For just a second, the boy remind Zelos of Genis and with that the flooded memories, bitter and sweet, of a group of people who would have fought so that he could live, who would have cried if he had died, came back to him.

"Perhaps," he grinned. "It's in the right direction." He hoped it wasn't an illusion. He hoped he could really be able to change the way people viewed half-elves, so that in the future there would not be another Mithos, so that there would not be a need for another little boy to become a man like Zelos, embittered by life and circumstance. And perhaps, the distant future, if they worked hard enough and believed enough, would not be anymore of an illusion than Triet, an oasis in the desert, would be.

Who knows? Mankind has been known to make miracles happen, even at the terrible cost of creating hell first.

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On their third night in the desert oasis, Triet, Zelos went out for a walk. He watched the stars tiredly sleepily blink into form in the midnight tapestry overhead, marveling at the beauty. The precious water that the desert oasis guarded like the most important treasure in the world - and in this case, it was - made Zelos admire the clear liquid all the more. If Sheena was here two years ago, she could probably have made it rain for the first time in a long time if given the chance. Zelos speculated on this as he watched the dark waters reflect the millions of blazing stars in the sky. There were no street lights in Triet, not like in Meltokio. The way to the water hole was dark and one needed a torch or lantern to travel at night, that is, if you didn't want to run into something. 

People went to bed early in Triet, where Meltokio hardly rested. There were festivities every other night in one pub or another in the lower sections of the city, and people were known to dine at odd hours, even in the upper most part of Meltokio. Zelos made a mental note to speak to the king about that type of class separation, but he doubted that it would be changed any time soon. Still, somebody needs to speak up about it, and he was doing most of it as is, it wouldn't hurt to add that particular tidbit in as well. There was a crunch of sand beneath small feet and Zelos paused, his hand on his sword before he was conscious of the act.

He smiled a little at himself, wondering if the habit will ever leave him and half-hoping it was a memento he would be able to keep forever. "Sir?" the elven-boy's voice rippled the air like a breeze over the oasis' water.

"What are you doing out so late?" he asked instead.

"I overheard some of the servants saying you left for a walk. It's not safe out here, Lord Zelos," the other warned him with the same submissive tone that most half-elf servants used so they wouldn't get a beating. He was touched by the boy's concern.

"It can't be helped," Zelos said with a grin as he turned his head to the sky. "As the Ambassador of Meltokio, and the one who's preaching about the equality of all races, I would doubt my life would be very safe anywhere. People always were very jealous of their high status, even if they had nothing else."

"Sir?" the boy stepped up next to him. "Why are you doing this, if you don't mind me asking?"

Zelos knew what the boy had meant so he crouched down, folding his long legs so that he was now about the same height as the elven-boy. "I knew a man once who had a half-elf for a best-friend." The boy had a disbelieving look on his face, but Zelos stopped his protests with a stern look. "I admired that man. He believed that no one's life was born without cause, that everyone had worth from the moment they took breath in this world." Zelos laid a hand on the small, elven-boy's head. "He believed that even a Chosen, one who was born to die for the world's sake, deserved a chance to live life as it should be lived. He wanted a world where everyone was equals, where half-elves are not discriminated against and where human sacrifices were not needed to keep the world turning... that is his dream." The boy watched him with something akin to awe in those large, grey eyes. In that moment, Zelos could not tell the difference between half-elves and humans. "He's not half as eloquent as I am though," Zelos chuckled arrogantly to break the serious spell, "and you need to be charming to change the world, because a sword cannot solve everything. Because the world doesn't really want to change or be changed, despite the pains of others. Lloyd would not have understood the complexities of court politics, nor would he have tolerated the fools one must deal with to reach his goals." Zelos stood and looked at the waters before him with a weary smile tugging his lips down from his earlier jubilance. "Right now, he is like an oasis in the desert. He is like a treasure that few share the knowledge of, a miracle, really. But one day, I dream that it is a treasure that everyone would be able to carry with them and that people like him would not be so rare." Zelos admitted to the boy as much as to himself. "It would be rather sad that not everyone will be able to meet someone like Lloyd in their life time, hm?"

"Do you believe that one day half-elves and humans would really be treated as equals?" the child asked anxiously, suspicious and yet hopeful.

Zelos realized that once he had been such a boy, but someone had taken away the hope and left only the suspicion. "I can't guarantee that world in my lifetime. It would be a lie if I did. I can only try to change it. Maybe, one day, people will not be judged by their race but by their character."

"I look forward to that world," the boy said with a spark in his eyes, but Zelos found himself not liking the answer.

"Look forward?" Zelos mocked, "Look forward and it will never come." The elven boy was surprised by the sudden bitterness in the ambassador's voice. "If you want it but don't fight for the right to be equal, you will never see such a day. If you don't struggle and suffer to be treated the same, nothing in this world will change." Zelos faced the boy seriously now. "You're important in this struggle, just like every other person. You must believe, and when you see injustice and hatred and fear, when you see violence and hunger and discrimination, you must fight back. If you don't and bad things happen to you because of it, then it is your own fault caused by your own weakness."

The boy was silent as he watched the water sit as still as death. "Would the journey be very difficult, Lord Zelos?"

Zelos shrugged at this. "It has only begun. And anyway, it's not like we're doing it alone."

"Yeah," the boy perked up. Even though he only realized such a small fact it still lit him up like a light in the dark. Zelos smiled at such innocent enthusiasm and set a hand on the other's shoulder, before turning to enjoy the stars under the same dark sky.

* * *

"I didn't think you'd be the type to bother talking to little boys," the familiar, sultry voice mocked him from the shadows after he closed the door and locked it. "You never bothered before." 

"I bothered before with Lloyd and Genis," he retorted. What he didn't bother to do was waste the energy needed to show his surprise at her appearance. "And the boy reminds me of Genis," Zelos shrugged as he headed for the bed and plopped himself down upon it with a heavy sigh.

She was silenced by his answer long enough for him to almost doze off. "How are negotiations going?"

"Terrible," he answered automatically, and about as honest as he had been all day, from under the arm he threw over his eyes. "But there's no need to speak of that further. Why are you here, Sheena?"

Sheena Fujibayashi stepped out from the corner of his small room. Her footsteps were stealthy and silent so that he couldn't hear her approach. She had gotten much better than when they had first met, but Zelos still sensed the temper in her that made Sheena his favorite girl to pick on. Sadly, with Sheena, he always reverted back to the juvenile age of six, when picking on girls was something one did to prove one's manhood and one's indifference to their kind. Zelos though had a pretty good idea why he did it, unlike his six year-old self.

"I need a favor," she paused as if uncertain.

"From me?" Zelos grinned a little, feeling his mouth tilting ever so much in that way he knew made her annoyed at him more as he goaded her. "I knew you loved me, darling, but a tumble in bed shouldn't be called a favor as I would do it more than willingly."

"You idiot!" she shouted at him as he remembered her doing when last they had met. Zelos didn't realize he missed it till that moment. His nostalgic silence gave her enough time to regain her composure. "That's not what I meant," she grounded out more calmly, though not by much.

"Then what did you mean?" Zelos asked with a seductive quirk of his eye brow as he pushed himself onto his elbows. "I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart, so no need to hurry the process." His eyes raked over her voluptuous form, pouting when he noted that she still wore the garb of the successor of Mizuho, which covered far more skin than he liked.

"I thought you were no longer a playboy," she sighed, hiding her discomfort.

"Being an ambassador did not mean I lost my charm," Zelos grinned. "It just meant I found another avenue to exercise my talents in. But more importantly," he added with a serious expression that made her stand a bit straighter under his gaze, "I thought you would do away with such an ugly frock," he said pointedly. Sheena's face went from surprise to fury faster than any woman he had ever met. He didn't take the hint though, but when it came to Sheena, he never took the hint. Raine once said that he was like a man out on a suicide mission every time he and Sheena decided to talk to each other. "I liked your ninja outfit better, though you still make even that brown-paper bag look good... good enough to take off that is." Zelos winked at her suggestively.

"I'm not here to play into your fantasies," Sheena crossed her arms over her chest with a growl, which drew his eyes to that particular anatomy even though he knew she did it out of self-consciousness. Sheena was very predictable in these situations, but then, Zelos sheepishly admitted, so was he. Maybe he said all those things just so she would cross her arms over her chest like that, he was never quite sure because she did a lot of things when she was angry that made him quite happy to be present. "I'm here to look for Kuchinawa," she quietly admitted. The playfulness left the corners of his mouth as he regarded her through lidded eyes.

"And how can this play-boy help the little lady on her quest for another man?" Zelos joked half-heartedly, falling onto his back again without much care about what she would say next.

"He destroyed Mizuho."

Zelos got up so fast that he felt light headed, but Sheena was not looking at him so she didn't notice. She had her back to him now, which meant she trusted him (she told him once that ninjas don't trust just anyone). She was tense and he didn't know if she was crying or not. "Are you hurt?" Zelos finally asked. "Physically, I mean," he elaborated.

"Not really," she said. "But he poisoned the well-water after trashing the plaza. He told those that were still conscious that to get Mizuho back and receive the antidote, I would have to fight him. This time, because I am the successor, it's a do-or-die battle. Win or lose, he will not back down until he is dead. Kuchinawa had made that more than clear the last time he was at Mizuho."

"So, you must find him. That is the first part of the trial." Zelos concluded for her evenly.

"Yes," she answered.

"Were you there when he came to the village?" Zelos asked tensely, wondering if she was up to defeating Kuchinawa again. The first time had been hard enough, and if the man improved in the last year he didn't want Sheena to go in to a battle where she would just lose her life.

"No, I was out on a mission to scout out the new villages and build contacts there. The world is so different now after the merge, and yet, it is still the same." Sheena turned to him, "Have you seen Kuchinawa, or heard of him in your travels?"

Zelos pondered on this a bit. "No, and I don't have the time to aid you in your search. Is it so important that you cannot move the village to somewhere else? The world is bigger now, after all."

"And admit defeat? I'll lose all credibility." Sheena thundered, so disgraced at even the idea that her face turned bright red with indignation.

"Would your village be better off if you were to die?" he asked her softly instead. Sheena paused at this. Apparently the thought of defeat had not gone beyond that point of her death. "Kuchinawa is a very selfish and prideful fellow. He is too clouded by his revenge to think of others now. Do you think, after he defeats you-" Zelos cleared his throat at the look she sent him "-if he defeats you, he would be willing to pick up the pieces of Mizuho in the aftermath? I don't think the village will take him back, not if he becomes a murderer."

"When did you get so smart?" Sheena joked, trying not to answer his questions.

"I was always smart, sweetheart," he grinned slowly, not at all fooled. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have been such a good little traitor."

She paled at the very mention of it. Her brows drew down and her lips straightened in a line of displeasure. "You are not a traitor, Zelos. I thought we moved on from that!"

"I betrayed you, no need to soften the impact. Just because I came back, don't mean I didn't do the deed. Just like the people died in your trial against Volt because you were not strong enough to defeat him that first time, nothing changes the action." Sheena paled more at his callous and unforgiving words. "You don't have a right to tell me to move on if you can't move on yourself." Zelos finally said pointedly, looking her in the eye. "If you can only live for the dead, you will only forget the living. Someone has to be given up, but I suggest you reevaluate your priorities before you go do something rash."

Sheena was silent, studying him with a gaze she never once bestowed upon him till now. Zelos wasn't sure if he liked the change, but it couldn't be helped. Only a fool would throw away his life for revenge, even if it was the human thing to do. To be devoured by one's weakness didn't make you stronger no matter how many people you were able to beat, Mithos taught them that. Lloyd may not have won all his battles, but his ideas were solid and his heart was strong and good, even if the boy was an idiot half the time.

"I don't care what you do," Zelos lied. "It's your life to ruin, darling, though it would be a waste if you just off and died on me. I don't run into beautiful women like you every day, and none of them have resisted quite like you have done." She blushed, a flash of jealousy made her eyes sparkle in that dark, attractive way that he always liked about her. Even though he knew she didn't want to feel anything for him, she had always been intrigued.

"I'll think on it," she finally said, ignoring his last comment. "But it won't change anything in the end. Kuchinawa will come for me no matter where I am."

Zelos had to agree to that. He was tired, he didn't want to think on this anymore, not when there's a whole other week of negotiations after tonight that dealt with the fate of an entire race. He wanted to believe, at the very least, that the fighting part was over with, but that was just wishful thinking on his part. If they weren't careful, fighting can very easily erupt over this new and confused world. He knew the king was putting money into funding new research on other ways to use mana, just like they had been warned by Mithos. This type of thing was inevitable, but it was worth fighting against, peace and lives in general were worth fighting for. "I'm tired," Zelos sighed. "You're a big girl now, you can figure it out by yourself." He turned his back to her then, but didn't close his eyes. He knew that if she left, he wouldn't hear her go anyway, but there was not much else to say between them.

"Zelos," her voice was soft. "Thanks," he didn't reply because he knew that she wouldn't hear him.

"Yeah," Zelos sighed as he closed his eyes a few moments later, knowing she was gone and he could say whatever he wanted now. "Whatever makes you happy, sweetheart." Surprisingly he meant it, but he wasn't going to linger on that thought as sleep pulled him into darkness.

Just be careful, Sheena, Zelos thought before exhaustion blacked him out. Just be careful.

* * *

"That Zelos Wilder is out to ruin everything!" Kuchinawa grounded out in annoyance. He had been following Sheena for the better part of a day after she had arrived at Triet, and had been trying to decide if now was a good time to fight her or if he should wait a bit longer. She had surprised him with her speed. Kuchinawa admitted that he had not thought she would have been able to get here this quickly, but he has discovered that he should start reevaluating her quick, since she obviously improved from the girl he fought a year ago. 

Maybe he should just get rid of this Zelos she's always after, get her to have a taste of what it was like on his side of the world. She hasn't lost anything of great importance, not like him. Maybe it was time to remind her why she was chasing after him in the first place. Kuchinawa didn't like it, but it wasn't like Zelos was worth much. The playboy had the stupidest idea that half-elves and humans could be equals.

What a joke! Obvious the man had lost his mind. He would be doing the world some good by killing the ex-Chosen. It wasn't like Zelos had a use anymore. The king was obviously fed up with Zelos' ideals and sent him to the corner of this backwater hole to talk to unimportant people so he wouldn't be in the way anymore. No one would miss him. From what Kuchinawa had heard, even Zelos' sister couldn't stand him.

Oh yes, he would be doing the world a favor getting rid of Zelos Wilder. And then, Sheena would stop being such an idealistic fool and remember why she was here. She was here to fight him. And if she was good enough, she would kill him. Kuchinawa doubted that she would survive him a second time. He smiled ever so slyly as he clutched the card in his hand closer to his heart. Every man, after all, must have his bargaining chips, and a weapon that would bring his enemies to their knees.

Kuchinawa had both. There was no way he would lose again.

No way in hell!

* * *

**_To be continued..._**


	2. Part II Judgment

There was something in your eyes that gave you away. A type of darkness and sorrow deeper than what is experienced by children because it has had more time to brood and stew than the childhood years have to offer. The type that kisses from mothers and soft soothing balm could not heal. It wasn't always there, I know. You once had a lost and distant look, that first time we met, as if you were but half awake and still untouched. There was this presence about you, a radiant magick that promised a secret place and some ancient spell. As if an old witch from the mouths of the story-tellers have crawled out of the dark caverns of earth and dew, and put an enchantment upon you.

You remind me most of the legend we heard at an inn in Flanoir, where a girl as white as snow was enthralled into an eternal dream. It was, you told me later, a story your sister had loved above all others. It was something you had told to her before bed when she was but a babe - an age when memories fade like mirages in the desert. That you yourself had never liked such a tale was pure irony, though not too surprising given your nature that we are only beginning to rediscover and you are only beginning to relearn. You did not seem the type to be moved by the tales of gallant princes of far-away places. You were not a girl who needed saving, despite the belied fragility of your body and your seeming youth. "It was the only story I knew of, that our mother had told to me when I had been a girl," you had explained to me with your childlike voice. The strangeness of those words spoken with such innocence no longer confuses me, but it is your eyes that had looked out at me with an expression that has yet to fit your face that gives me pause.

Still, you were like the girl of Flanoir who was tricked by a sorcerer and put into an enchanted sleep, encased in ice and youthful-eternity. There, she must have seemed like she was waiting for a prince to dislodge the choke-hold put upon her by such a spell. And now, before me, I can see what might have become of that girl in such an age-old tale. She might have been very much like you, after the dream was broken and the child woke up to that of a woman's mind. And, like the body of the dreaming Flanoir girl, you did not age one bit in what must have seemed like a thousand years, existing in a half-dream state too far from consciousness to act upon your own wills and desires. You, unlike that Flanoir child, faced the world with your cold eyed stare, instead of being locked in an icy cage. You were not sheltered to be bait or snare. You were used, instead, as a tool forged through a mindless fire that burned away your past like hot coals set upon paper. Unlike that girl who was rescued, you remained alone amongst your companions, silently picking up the pieces of your lost humanity and trying to glue back together a girl who might have become somewhat of a monster during the abscence of her soul.

And on you was the scent of death, not sleep. The smell of earth had once been so strong upon your skin that I could not help but imagine you dreaming with your pink hair spilt over rotting wood and darkened soil in some forest tomb. There was no spicy freshness of pine or snow to dust your pale skin or perfume your cloth. Instead it smelt of worms and rot and the deep earth after rain and leaves, dead and buried, beneath your body and over flesh. It was the smell of decay, though we would not find the cause until later that it was not you that was dead but the body you took care of in your waking dream. It had taken a long time to even realize then that there was also a touch of something that was not quite winter underneath your frigid coldness, like those eyes that no longer fit upon your face. At that time, there was something of yours that lingered long after all else was gone. A glimmer of hope perhaps, or maybe it is just my mind filling in what had never been there before the spell was broken.

Now, when you look at me, there is a touch of harshness, an unforgiving stare beneath your somber study of my face. I know you turn away more ashamed of yourself than me at the confusion of your emotions. And I think, you really are a child, though the scars you bare are far too heavy for such comparisons. "I should love you a little, I think." You say that with a tremble in your voice and that same far-away look in your eyes as once when you had lost your heart. Only this time, there is not that promise of death wrapped around you like a blanket of ice and snow. There are no more magick to cloud your life or the person you are. "Yet, even with the reminder of my stubbornness and my pointless anger, there is still a trace of hate that I cannot rid myself of. You must think me weak for not being able to let go." A child to be so honest and yet speaking of emotions children had not the words to articulate.

What do I say to that? What could anyone say, really? "I can only pray to Martel that one day you shall forgive me," I answered softly. I shall also silently pray that one day I might forgive myself, though I doubt the latter would ever happen in this life-time.

"I too, shall pray with you." You leave and come back quickly, hands grasping a basket, eyes so very hesitant as you touch my arm. When I turn, I cannot help but stare, stare and wish in one guilty moment that it is not you but her in your place. The feeling is fleeting but I am guilty of it nonetheless. You look so much like her at times, especially those times when you try to smile. I have amusedly watched you test your expressions before a mirror, hesitant and unsure of yourself. How unnatural your expressions had been, and how you had curiously looked to me when I had been unable to fight back a chuckle. "Is it so bad?" you had asked, embarrassed enough to blush. How in that moment it had felt like years had fallen away and she was in front of me again, making my heart lighter than I had thought possible with that bright light in her eyes. But instead, I see you before me now, with confusion and uncertainty. Slowly, hesitantly, one corner of your mouth struggles to go up, half an imitation and half a feeling that you don't know how to express or explain. I guess it is hard for me to let her go still, especially when you are here with me now. Even when the wound has dulled it has yet to fully heal, and it is hard to heal when neither you nor I think I deserve the relief.

"Let us go then," I invite you with the extension of my hand in the present, and you take it without hesitance. Out into the evening we go, with the sky studded white and silver, brightened by such far off lights than it has been for quite sometime. You hum a little tune under your breath, white breath like fog and wind. Almost, I can mistake you for a child in the darkness that cloaks you, but then I remember too quickly how you are not.

Softly, you tug on my hand again until I turn to see you looking up at me with those haunted eyes. Your lips move and the words come forth. It is a child's voice that speaks with such strange dignity and reserve. "Do you feel old, Regal?"

Smiling ruefully, I look to the sky. "Old? Yes, sometimes I feel older than I look." I smile only with so much irony at such words spoken to you.

"I feel like that all the time," you answer with that look in your eyes that says that you understand why I said what I did. Perhaps you do understand me in this moment better than anyone else can. You, a woman in a child's body, half trapped and half lost. "I guess we share more than one thing in common," silently we go, your warm hand in mine and my cool hand guiding you. "You must miss her, very much," you finally break through the darkness softly. I have never heard you so eager for words, nor so flushed in the face. It is, most likely from the cold, but time has passed since the world was made one and you have been given time to live as I had been given time to heal. This is, I think, the first time we have ever spoken about her without being before her grave.

"Yes," I answer honestly, though I do not wish to continue.

"Tell me," you begin hesitantly, "what she was like." I look at you surprised before you began to explain. "She was my little sister, I knew her only as a child." Your hand grips mine a bit more tightly, but you continue to exercise control of yourself far beyond your years. "I want to know her as a woman. A woman I would never know her to be."

And so, on a night of clear skies and stars, I told you about her. A star in the skies of our lives that had faded all too quickly, and loved all too much...

* * *

_"The harshest judge is a guilty judge."_

_**- Regal Bryant, on crimes and punishment**_

_**

* * *

**_

**Nightwatch of the Lone Savior**

_by Blue Jeans_

They buried his mother under a great tree in the cemetery reserved for nobles. Because she was the mother of the Chosen and because she had died trying to protect him, Mylene Wilder would have one of the grandest funerals ever known in the history of Meltokio - next to the old King's, that is. There had been a great gathering of mourners at the gates of the cemetery that day, after the service. However, only one young boy, attended by his butler, Sebastian, had been present - besides the royal entourage - at the official burial. The Pope is also in attendance, over-looking this particular event with a deep frown etched between his brows. Years later, Zelos would learn that the man was far more disappointed on who he buried that day than he had let on. For now, young Zelos Wilder is fighting back tears, because a man is not supposed to cry, no matter his age. He's also trying very hard not to notice the snow, because it only brings back memories he does not wish to carry with him. And he's telling himself that life goes on, because it already has.

Seles Wilder did not attend this particular funeral. Instead, she's busily being the only one to go visit the unmarked graves they had dumped the bodies of newly slain criminals in. Her mother is one such criminal, and in her young mind, she doesn't quite know how to deal with the fact that the woman she loved above all others had attempted to kill the boy she had once loved so whole-heartedly that he had been like the father she never had. In the dirt and the heavy snow, Seles is standing by the unmarked grave, watching the freshly piled dirt with uncertainty in her eyes. She won't admit she's crying either, because it's just the stupid snow that's melting on the heat of her cheeks and getting in the way of her eyes.

Seles has never been to this part of town and hadn't dreamed that she ever would, until this morning. She has never been this dirty and she has never ran away from home or broken any of the rules before, especially since she's doing something that she would have once considered beneath her. Yet, today, she's watching the grave through a blurry gaze, ashamed she's there and ashamed all the more that she doesn't know where her mother's body is located beneath the darkened soil. She's ashamed of herself and of her mother. She's furious that her brother had just stood there with a blank expression on his face as the Pope threw accusations of her mother's half-elf blood in her face. She's angry that he wasn't there to protect her like he had always done so in the past, like he had promised to do so when she was a child and they had loved each other - because even if she doesn't love him anymore, the promise still stands. She's angry at herself for not being strong enough to stand up for herself or for the woman whose name is now a taboo to even mention in the city. She's angry at the woman buried beneath the dirt for leaving her alone to fend for herself with nary a goodbye. And she knows, with a fearful certainty, that nothing will ever be the same again for her, for Zelos, for the people who were left alive in the aftermath of this ground-shaking event.

History would not be kind to Seles Wilder. It would be far crueler to Seles Wilder's half-elfin mother, whom the historians of Tethe'alla would not even deem the right to bare the Wilder title. Instead, they would call her Half-Elf, stripping her of name, identity and individuality, and burn her - along with her race - at the stakes of history for it. Seles Wilder's picnic by the hill, a few months later, would be one of the last days of freedom she would remember having for a long time after. It could be said that only after the worlds had merged - after the title of the Chosen was eradicated - that Seles had finally been able to gain some form of freedom. However, due to her blood and her mother's crimes, it was not until half-a-year later, when Zelos stormed into the South-Eastern Abbey, demanding to know why his half-sister was still locked up, that she would begin to gain back some semblance of a life again.

There were no thanks waiting for him, but Zelos Wilder didn't expect any to begin with. There was too much past between them and all, despite the fact that they were related by blood. Even though he loved her, there was too much history made by the adults in their lives. Zelos doesn't want her thanks anyway. He doesn't think he deserves it because what he did couldn't really be counted as a favor. Freeing her would only be the beginning of her ordeals, he knew that. But at least Seles could now have choices that she could make for herself, instead of being locked up in a tower for crimes not of her doing.

Especially since, even though Zelos Wilder has forgiven his half-sister of the past, those who admire him still, would not. Those who were used to the ways of Tethe'alla would not forget her mother's crimes, and she would not be forgiven for her birth right. Knowing this, Zelos gave her a bag of gold coins, a map and a letter. He told her to go visit a dwarf by the name of Altessa. "He'll need you, and even if life would not be the same as you are used to it, it would be better than the city. It would be better than a tower, Princess."

Seles doesn't like the nickname anymore, she has stopped being that girl who did, long ago. She tells him so as boldly as she used to, though this time around, it has more to do with the fact that she has nothing more to lose than being the spoiled, upper-class girl she once was. She had wanted to argue on her sudden relocation, but she had come to recognize the hard look in her brother's eyes. Though not many people saw Zelos Wilder as much of anything but a play-boy, Seles has seen her brother when he was being aloof and cold. She knows, because she's one of the reasons he has became the way he did. When his eyes hold that serious expression in their gaze, no logic in the world could move him to do otherwise. "Oh come on," Zelos lightened his tone with a grin that Seles had seen work on many other women. "I'm just looking out for my baby-sister. A thank you kiss on the cheek would be more than enough as payment for my hard work!" Zelos drawls out the lie, and she knows that he doesn't believe in a single word he's saying.

Seles gives him one hard stare before turning to go. "Prepare my luggage," she orders the guards once she has descended the stairs. "I'm going to Ozette."

"Ozette, my lady? But the village, I heard, has been destroyed-" the guard began to protest. At that moment, Zelos came down the stairs as well, and made eye contact with the guard. His blue eyes are frosty, clear and commanding in his smooth aristocratic face. It holds an expression that commands obedience, and when the guards see this they all stand a little straighter under the gaze and comply silently, much to Seles' annoyance. Zelos shifts his gaze to the top of his sister's head and the brotherly smile slides back easily as he looks at her. With her back safely turned to his, he can pretend they don't hate each other and that they're siblings without any history, again. "As you wish, my lady," the guard complies as Zelos sets a hand on Seles's shoulder.

"Won't you stay longer?" Zelos inquires after her with a pout, breaking the tension that has saturated the air. "Don't you miss your big-brother's company?"

Seles freezes under his touch before turning to give him a glare. Then she proceeds to remove his appendage as if it was diseased. "Please," she said to the guard instead. "Make it quick. I do not wish to doodle and waste my time with beasts." The comment sent the guards scurrying away to do her bidding and to avoid whatever wrathful tantrums they were used to royals throwing when they are insulted. The red-head though, just let it roll off of his shoulders, because he's used to it, especially when it's coming from Seles.

"I am a rather well groomed predator," Zelos agrees proudly, ignoring Seles' pointed glare, one that could have burned down unsuspecting trees if there were magick behind it. "What? Really Seles, all this time you're away from your brother and you haven't gained one bit of manners. Let your wonderful older-brother look at what you have become out of my supervision." Zelos said as he forcefully turned her to face him. He looked rather displeased, though too animated for her to take his displeasure seriously. "I should fire your etiquette teachers," he announced, "you are exactly as I have left you! Not an improvement in any of the departments I'm paying them for. And what is worse? You still have a long way to go before becoming a real woman!" Zelos pulled back and chuckled a little as he began to imagine Sheena in her ninja costume, amongst other things, as to what his definition of what a _"real woman"_ should be like. "I shall pray to Martel for my darling, little sister to grow a chest that shall not be as flat as a board, forever," he sighed dramatically, head still in the clouds of fantasy. "And her mannerisms shall become refined and of such grace that-"

When the guard returned, he found Zelos twitching on the floor as Seles sat primly a few feet away, in the pews. "I learned martial arts for a reason." She explained to the stupefied expression given to her. "Anyway, he volunteered to see if I had gotten rusty after all this time."

Zelos, unfortunately at the time, didn't look like he could muster up the strength to give any more opinions that day.

-

The desert air seem to suck all the moisture out of his tender skin, Zelos Wilder thought dejectedly as he pulled at his vest that seemed determined to stick to his youthful body. He could see why all the old men were so wrinkly, like dried up prunes, as they frequented the market-place in the day. They were also hard to bargain with. Not that Triet wasn't far cheaper than what he was used to in the sprawling markets of Meltokio, but Zelos would never dream of disgracing his hard learned bargaining skills by not at least attempting to bring the price down to a more favorable value.

Sheena had once accused him of being cheap when they had visited the markets of Altamira. She had, once again, expected more stupidity from him because of his high sounding title, but he was appalled at her miscalculation. "Math is my specialty, darling," Zelos had proclaimed, a bit chauvinistically. "Leave the bargaining to the men, and you'll be taken care of." He continued, determined to be oblivious to his impending doom. Granted, it took Raine and Regal to pull Sheena off of him that time, but the look on her face was worth it.

"Let me have him," Sheena struggled futilely against Regal's iron grip, and Raine's restraining staff. "He deserves it!"

"I know you want me, sweetheart, but not in public!" He purred when she was finally dragged some feet away. He had never seen a woman move so fast with so many people hanging onto her, even if those people were shooting him looks of disgust. Really, these children had no appreciation for the art of flirtation! Anyway, all that pulling on Sheena and her revealing costume ended up giving Zelos quite an enjoyable view.

"I should have just let her have you," Lloyd sighed later that evening, dusting off the dirt on his red coat as he was one of the four that were dragged through the streets of Altamira by one enraged female ninja.

"You should have. I would have welcomed my hunny with wide, open arms." Zelos had agreed with a knowing, arrogant chuckle and a completely different set of logic. He had ignored the sigh of defeat that Lloyd gave off in the face of his lecherous grin, but it would be memories like these that would later make him go back to them, despite his betrayals and his fears. It would be memories of Sheena's dark flashing eyes - and bouncing bosom - along with Lloyd's look of resigned loyalty, that would nail the coffin for one Zelos Wilder.

He would just never tell them the cost he had to pay for it. Sometimes, words weren't enough and apologies brought nothing and nobody back from the dead. Mithos didn't know this, and look where it got that fool. In the end, he found himself not very different from the half-elves he had hated since the death of his mother and the betrayal of the woman he had, up to the day of the assassination, thought of as a second mother. In the end, everyone danced their dance of betrayals and pride and envy. Humans, evles, half-elves, and even dwarves, they were not very different when it came to hurting each other.

It was so easy for people to sell out on someone close to them. In the end, Zelos noted that scum was scum, regardless of race. The miracle was in finding those like Lloyd and Colette, innocent little children who wished to sacrifice no one and fought for everyone's sake. Humans, elves, half-elves, and even dwarves, maybe they all stood a chance so long as people like that were among them. And it was up to Zelos to make it possible for such people to survive this brutal world. It was up to Zelos to make sure people like himself would never be given the chance to betray a friend and teach their children likewise.

It was during these distracting, sentimental thoughts that he finally met up with the man that had haunted Sheena Fujibayashi's shadow since her failure to capture Volt the first time. Zelos was quite disappointed with the man's dramatic entrance and told him so after Kuchinawa introduced himself in a similarly dramatic fashion. The ninja had began to steam just as heatedly as Sheena would, and Zelos could see how those two might have found each other just as easily the best of friends as they were the worst of enemies. It failed, however, to amuse Zelos too much, especially after being stuffed for long days arguing over the details of race-rights with old, self-important Ambassadors from all over the new world. It pleased him less that this was how his day was going to end. He never did like destiny, but this was getting ridiculous! He didn't need any more self-important people on quests of revenge to complicate his tiring days. Wasn't Martel listening when he made his wish of having just a simple, uncomplicated life? Wasn't Mithos enough of an ass for one lifetime?

Kuchinawa was still speaking. Zelos guessed this was as good an answer as any from the Goddess he prayed to daily, more out of habit than out of belief. She had been kind and beautiful, from what Lloyd had told him, as a Goddess should be. However, at this moment, Zelos thought she was rather picky about whom to bestow that kindness and beauty upon. He drew his sword in the middle of Kuchinawa's rant about how inferior beings like Zelos didn't deserve the time of day from a highly trained ninja like himself. The look of surprise on Kuchinawa's face was priceless when he saw that Zelos had already drawn out his weapon and was prepared to do battle. "Look, are you here to assassinate me, or are you here to babble?" Zelos asked impatiently, as he extended his sword to the ninja, eyes already locating a barrel nearby with a top that looked like a promising shield. When Kuchinawa opened his mouth to answer, Zelos waved him to silence. "Ah! I know what you're going to say," Zelos began rather mockingly. "Yadda, yadda, yadda... No, the sword is not just for decoration. Yes, I have heard enough self-important speeches today to last me a life-time. Unfortunately for me, those people also happened to be far more eloquent than you'll ever be, but it looks like you will be the one closing this day. And no, as grand as you are to yourself, you're really not pretty enough for me to pretend that I'm actually interested in what you're going to say next. So, move it along already!"

"If you wish," Kuchinawa ground out the consent through clenched teeth. A dangerous glimmer lit up in the assassin's eyes, and Zelos didn't trust it one bit. There was anger and indignation in that gaze, but Zelos would much rather the man become enraged and thoughtless so that he could be better controlled. "I didn't expect so much sense from a play-boy like you, at least not enough for you to draw your weapon out right away. I always thought begging became you a bit better though."

"Begging is something more fitting of a desirous woman in bed. But I shall thank you nonetheless with the very little, but apparently impressionable, sense I do possess," Zelos mocked. "However, you really need to work on your insults," he countered, barely dodging a few well thrown kunai aimed for his head. Zelos knew the man was out for vital organs, preferably his, though he would have to survive this particular event first to figure out why. "It would be much more fitting, say, if I taught you a thing or two by starting with an insult to your lineage..." Zelos continued as he worked his way strategically towards the barrels.

"Don't bring up my lineage in this," Kuchinawa growled. "You aren't worthy enough to speak their names."

Zelos chuckled at this instead, after situating himself behind the barrels and against a wall. "What would your parents say if they were to hear you now?" he taunted with an arrogant smirk.

Kuchinawa's composure crumpled and that was when Zelos moved. The barrels exploded from the impact of Kuchinawa's weapons, steel mixed with magick. Zelos was beginning to have an understanding of the man's skills, and if Kuchinawa was not so annoying, Zelos might even have admired the man for his competence in combat. From the dust and rubbles, Zelos emerged with an arrogant smirk on his face as he faced the blazing eyes of a panting Kuchinawa. In his hand was the barrel's lid. Well, beggars can't be choosers, Zelos shrugged at the incredulous look he was getting from his current opponent. "Temper, temper," Zelos grinned predatorily at the ninja before him instead. "I guess you're finally taking me seriously." he observed, "But did your mother not teach you one bit of manners?"

Kuchinawa charged at him with a roar on his lips, and that was when the real battle began.

-

Sheena Fujibayashi was furious. She had heard about the battle in the market-place when she had passed by some whispering pedestrians, hurrying in the other direction. "A fight," someone was saying. "Between the ex-Chosen of Tethe'alla and some red-clad assassin, I hear..."

She had turned to follow the direction the fight was supposedly taking place with fear and anger at her breast. How dare he? Was the foremost thought in Sheena's mind. How dare that fool go after a battle that was obviously hers to fight, alone. Zelos Wilder never figured into her equations, he never figured into her life, but for one reason or another, he seemed determined to invade every aspect of both. The more she tried to ignore him, the more invasive he got.

How dare he? Sheena thought heatedly, refusing to acknowledge the anger as anything more than that. It wasn't like she was afraid for his safety. Sadly, that fool could take care of himself when it comes to a fight. However, for once, Sheena wasn't very assured by that thought.

Kuchinawa, for all his faults, was one of the best fighters in the village. She had beaten him once, but barely. She admit, from her observations of the red-head ex-Chosen, he was a powerful warrior despite his almost effeminate looks, but where Kuchinawa had been sharpening his skills this past year, Zelos had been living the peaceful life of a diplomat. Who knows how far his skills had slipped. And damnit, even if Lloyd taught her the importance of believing in your friends, Sheena wasn't feeling so confident right about now.

_Faster, faster, faster..._

Her brain was screaming at her, and for one horrible moment in time, Sheena realized that these were the exact thoughts that had raced through her mind when she had fought against Volt that first time. These were the tormenting thoughts she had been thinking when she was first defeated. These were thoughts throbbing inside of her as she helplessly watched her fellow villagers decimated in a few seconds before her very eyes. This was the exact same thought that ran through her head as she raced back to the village for help.

_Faster, faster, faster..._

But she was never fast enough. She collapsed, wide-eyed at the edge of the crowd. In the distance, she could hear the grunts of exertion as the fights continued. She didn't know who was emitting these sounds, but the fear pounded in her breast like a nightmare coming into reality. Grandfather, lying in a pool of his own blood, weighing down her body as she tried to reach the village. His blood wetting the material of his makeshift bandages, her torn shirt, her bruised back, and drying, drying as if it was seeping into her skin and branding her forever weak. The surprised, glassy looks on the faces of the dead, on the faces of Kuchinawa's parents who had been like her own...

It was all coming back so fast that Sheena stood helplessly, feeling like she was about to vomit. And then she heard his mocking, melodious voice floating over the murmurs of the crowd. It burned her up, anger searing through her fears and the words she had not spoken flashed before her eyes: How dare he? How dare he treat her like some weak female who couldn't fight her own battles? How dare he interfere? How dare he go out like that, as if he was the guilty one, as if he was the one who deserved to be punished for his incompetence? How dare he take away her chance to know if she was truly deserving as the successor?

Sheena pushed her way through the crowd, angry. She arrived at the edge, stumbling, and watched, wide-eyed at the scene before her. Kuchinawa was not on his feet anymore. Instead, he was hanging from Zelos' grip while turning an unnatural shade of blue in the face. Zelos had a cold look in his eyes, blood dripped from the cut on his cheek and the arm he was holding Kuchinawa up by. Otherwise, Zelos didn't look very different or even strained, though a bit dustier than usual, he handled Kuchinawa as if the other wasn't much of a challenge.

"It can't be," she heard her childhood friend gasp out. "The poison..."

"Obviously only affects humans," Zelos said evenly, and had Sheena not spend her life training to hear what others missed she probably wouldn't even have realized that Zelos had spoken at all. A million questions came to mind, but there was time for that later.

"Let him go, Zelos." She grounded out slowly. This was still her battle, Kuchinawa was still her rival. It didn't concern Zelos in the least, and she told him that quite pointedly before the gathering crowd.

"It concerns me if he attacks me, sweetheart," Zelos informed her with a harshness in his gaze that she was unaccustomed to seeing. "But now that you're here, I won't have to do any special delivery. Here," Zelos said as he tossed a small vile into her surprised hands. "The antidote you were looking for," he elaborated at the confused look on her face, effortlessly ignoring the sudden struggle that Kuchinawa was putting up at this particular turn of events. Then his features visibly relaxed before Kuchinawa was thrown away with a flick of a wrist. The action had been so graceful and elegant, it was horrifying. To Sheena, even as Kuchinawa was sent skidding down the street, away from both of them, she hadn't thought that her childhood friend could be so easily defeated or that Zelos had grown so incredibly strong. "If you want him still, go after him." Zelos calmly invited her to the deed. He wasn't facing her anymore, but from the perplexed look that came over Kuchinawa's purple, gasping face, she had a pretty good-idea that Zelos wasn't exactly being his happy-go-lucky self today.

"Zelos..." she was reaching out to him when she noticed the tenseness of his shoulders. There had been a golden glimmer in the soft fire-light, like a flicker of a fire-fly in the dark. Then, Zelos stretched out his arms and flexed, though Sheena had trouble registering what he was doing for a second. His action was so surprising that it froze her to the spot.

"Ah," the red-haired ambassador almost sang as he showed off his lean form. "Wasn't I so cool, defeating the evil assassin like that? Oh, my cute little hunnies," Zelos turned his gaze to the gathering crowd of men and women, flashing them all an overly charming grin. Suddenly, the fear and tension that had thrummed through the air dissipated before Sheena's eyes as young and old women sighed at his sparkling-eyed smile. Sheena wasn't sure how Zelos did it, but even she was feeling a little woozy from the affects, though she'd never admit it. "I know you want me," he rumbled. The predatory light in his eyes, the dangerous smirk tugging on his lips, and his self-confident aura that made even the blood coating his face and body seem somewhat dashing. His actions pulled them all in, making the crowd forget about the tense situation that shrouded the incident before them.

However, it just as quickly dissipated as someone gasped in the crowd when Kuchinawa got up, ready to have one last go at Zelos, with the ambassador's back turned. Sheena moved without thought, though later she would admit that if she had to do it again, she wouldn't know if the results would have been the same. It didn't change the fact that Kuchinawa dropped with a kunai in between his eyes, or the fact that Zelos, who had already sheathed his sword and dropped the tattered remains of his ridiculous barrel-lid hadn't anything to protect himself from the projectile. The red-head was quick enough to block the attack instinctively, but he ended up having to pull out the weapon from his forearm with a frown on his face. The red-head only winced and whined - though Sheena would not notice this until later - when she had looked to him before going to where Kuchinawa lay, dead. When she finally reached Kuchinawa, she ended up being more exasperated than she would have been if Zelos had not been there to steal the spot-light from even a dead man.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be, she wanted to say to Kuchinawa's slackened face, unaware that Zelos had quieted. "We were the best of friends," she whispered as she reached out, tracing the features she had been so familiar with as a child before closing his eyes. Zelos approached her with deliberate steps that crushed the gravel and sand beneath his feet, warning her of his approach. Surprisingly, however, he kept his mouth shut. "This was not how I wanted things to end," Sheena spoke at last, unsure what she was feeling now that this particular feud was over with nor with whom she was saying these words to.

When she turned sharply to glare at the man who ruined everything, she found that he was already walking away. The guards that were in charge of protecting the visiting ambassadors were only now emerging, dispersing the crowd from the scene of the crime. Those guards were so useless, Sheena thought angrily as she watched them act as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, trying to convince the locals to leave as others began to approach her. They were going to take Kuchinawa's body away, dispose of it as if he were a common criminal and not give him a Mizuho burial, like he deserved. Despite everything that had happened, Sheena wasn't going to let this happen too. She was going to drag Kuchinawa back to Mizuho if it was the last thing she did. If not for Kuchinawa's sake, then it would be for his parents that she did this for...

But mostly, selfishly, it was just for herself.

* * *

_**To be continued...**_

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* * *

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**Note:**

Triet has no police force of its own.

The guards that cleared the crowd are just the body-guards, mercenaries and soldiers brought in by the visiting Ambassadors.

Zelos' mother and his step-mother both died five to six month before the picnic scene. They are both older than the game's suggested age for the event in this story.


End file.
